The Day the Stars Stopped Singing
by forestwife
Summary: Tag to ‘Chosen’. When her childe, her Dark Knight turned to dust, she felt it... and Drusilla put her hands to her head and screamed. Implied SpikeDrusilla. Please R&R!


Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer... if I did, it would have ended much differently...

Summary: Tag to 'Chosen'. When her childe, her Dark Knight turned to dust, she felt it... and she put her hands to her head and screamed.

The Day the Stars Stopped Singing

Even after all these years, she still loved Europe the best.

Over the approximate century and a half she'd been a creature of the night, a vampire, Drusilla had been to many places around the globe. Her kind were unrestricted by the rules that governed where man could or could not go or what they couldn't do.

As it was, she was in Spain. She'd always loved the feel of the warm, humid air brushing past her cold, dead skin. It warmed her to it's temperature as it swept on it's way, freer than any bird could be. Freer than even _she_ could be... and that made her envy it a little.

It was at times like these that she missed Spike, Drusilla realised as she pouted at the invisible force around her that she couldn't touch, see or smell. He would've known exactly what to say to make her forget all about the wind and breeze taunting her. She'd tried to find another like him, someone who would take care of her, give her pretty, shiny things and call her a princess. But she'd come to find that there was no one like her Dark Knight.

As she swept silently down the dark dusty alley in pursuit of her quarry, Drusilla considered the fate that had befallen her William. She had felt it, that night almost a year ago. The same heaviness had pulled him down as had taken her Angelus, her Daddy. She could almost smell it on him, despite the miles between them, such was the bond between her and her childe.

Sweet Spike now had a soul, and the slayer danced around him, laughing at having taken her Dark Knight away from her, moulding him into her own, White Knight.

Drusilla had moaned and wailed for days after that, mourning the loss of the monster she had created. She could feel the pain the soul was inflicting on her boy, stabbing deep into his cold, still heart, and she had wept.

It had been almost 2 weeks before she had remembered that she had no one to take care of her now. That she had no one who would bring her a child whose blood sang and screamed of innocence once she was too weak to get one for herself.

Gradually, as time ate away at the ticking bomb that governed the fate of the universe, Drusilla had felt her Spike's pain recede, pushed away to preserve his sanity, something she sadly no longer had. Spike had always been the sensible one of the pair of them. She could still feel the whispers of guilt and ghosts of the past nagging away at the younger vampire, but they were no longer destroying him... and she was glad.

Drusilla knew that she should have hoped that the soul would drive her childe to his death, that he was an abomination of vampires, just like daddy was. But she didn't, because with Grandmummy dead and daddy having set fire to her, threatening to kill her if he ever saw her again, her Spike was the last one she had in her diminished family. So, she merely hoped she would be able to transform him back into the monster fate had determined he would be, that night in 1880 when the stars had sung him to her.

The stars. They always sang to her, of secrets hidden by the night, of the movements of the creatures that wriggled and crawled on the surface of the Earth, and that's what they were doing now. She paused in her hunt, closing her eyes and listening, stood at a crossroads in the small winding streets she was moving down.

She listened. The stars sang. And amongst their sorrowful tunes of death, she heard the irregular pumping heartbeat of the barely pubescent boy that she was pursuing, the unmistakeable reek of fear emanating from him.

A feral grin crossed Drusilla's face as she followed the path the boy had taken. The stars wouldn't be the only things that sang tonight.

"Please!" the boy cried out as she entered the dead end he'd cornered himself in, "Whatever you want... don't kill me!"

"Tsk, tsk, naughty boy!" Drusilla said in a sing song voice, wagging her finger at the boy, "Whispers follow you, and you know she does not like her secrets told. It wilts the flowers, and the garden can't grow without sunlight."

Apparently oblivious that nothing she said made sense, the vampiress stalked towards the cowering human, her face changing to show the demon within her.

"Mary, mother of God!" the boy whispered.

"Your blood sings," Drusilla said, lowering her fangs to the human's neck, "but no one noticed."

But before her teeth pierced his skin, Drusilla stopped and spun around. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. It was almost like...

And then she knew. She fell to her knees and moaned in distress, keening, "the Earth is hungry. It swallows without discrimination!"

She felt it at the moment of it's happening. A battle was being fought, a war waged against the forces of darkness, and her Spike was fighting for the slayer's side. Even though every vampire knew that the forces of light were bright, and burnt, just like the sun.

Drusilla felt it as the hateful glaring reach of the sun touched her Spike. She felt it as the earth quaked and trembled, falling in and swallowing everything beneath it.

The sun blistered and burnt her knight, scorching his skin from his bones. And then at suddenly as it had begun, it was all over. Spike was gone, turned to dust, just as all their kind was cursed to do at their end, and the earth that was Sunnydale collapsed on top of his remains.

"From beneath it devours," she cried, hands over her ears, oblivious to the fleeing boy, "Ashes to ashes and dust to dust, that's all there is!"

The Vampiress looked up at the sky. The stars twinkled at her, but they made no sound, no longer singing for her. Their betrayal cut deep. Why hadn't they warned her?

Her Knight, her Spike was gone, dust for the rest of time, and the empty hole he had left was too much for her to bear. She rocked where she sat in the dirt, and screamed.

The residents of the buildings around her locked their doors at the terrifying sound. It reverberated through the air, sending chills to their very souls.

And still the stars remained silent.

Drusilla had never been so alone as on the day when the stars stopped singing.

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A/N: My first Buffy fic that I've published, and Drusilla is particularly difficult to write for (well I find anyway)... But still, I hope everyone liked. It's strange the things that pop into your head when you're ill isn't it?

Please review and tell me whether it was good, ok, or if I should back away slowly from the whole Buffy genre...!


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